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The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas
A witty sharply observed journey down the length of North and South America.
Beginning his journey in Boston, where he boarded the subway commuter train, and catching trains of all kinds on the way, Paul Theroux tells of his voyage from ice-bound Massachusetts and Illinois to the arid plateau of Argentina's most southerly tip. Sweating and shivering by turns as the temperature and altitude shoot up and down, thrown in with the appalling Mr Thornberry in Limón and reading nightly to the blind writer, Borges, in Buenos Aires, Theroux vividly evokes the contrasts of a journey 'to the end of the line'.
Beginning his journey in Boston, where he boarded the subway commuter train, and catching trains of all kinds on the way, Paul Theroux tells of his voyage from ice-bound Massachusetts and Illinois to the arid plateau of Argentina's most southerly tip. Sweating and shivering by turns as the temperature and altitude shoot up and down, thrown in with the appalling Mr Thornberry in Limón and reading nightly to the blind writer, Borges, in Buenos Aires, Theroux vividly evokes the contrasts of a journey 'to the end of the line'.
430 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1979
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14990 people want to read
About the author
Paul Theroux
230 books2,574 followersPaul Edward Theroux is an American travel writer and novelist, whose best known work is The Great Railway Bazaar (1975), a travelogue about a trip he made by train from Great Britain through Western and Eastern Europe, the Middle East, through South Asia, then South-East Asia, up through East Asia, as far east as Japan, and then back across Russia to his point of origin. Although perhaps best known as a travelogue writer, Theroux has also published numerous works of fiction, some of which were made into feature films. He was awarded the 1981 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for his novel The Mosquito Coast.
He is the father of Marcel and Louis Theroux, and the brother of Alexander and Peter. Justin Theroux is his nephew.
He is the father of Marcel and Louis Theroux, and the brother of Alexander and Peter. Justin Theroux is his nephew.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 547 reviews
May 14, 2017
Apart from the occasional quick dash on the Metro, I haven't had much of a train life, as never really needed them. I do however recall the nostalgic memory of my first ever train ride aged about five, sitting on board just prior to departure I was excited and couldn't keep still, waiting for something extraordinary to happen, but the most euphoria I got was when the train shot through a tunnel for all of 30 seconds, other than that I gazed out yonder at the passing English countryside, munching on a bag of sweets wondering what all the fuss was about.
Reading Paul Theroux's epic rail journey from a snowy Boston all the way down to the vast emptiness of the Patagonian plateau has certainly opened my eyes as to what's possible, it was a great pleasure, but not without pitfalls. Writing in his introduction he says that some people view a travel book as a type of novel, and that others who have turned little trips into huge odysseys where self-dramatization or invention is inevitable, but Paul sets out to not to take a long journey as an inspiration to write, but simply write about the journey whilst he's on it. After completion I view this in two ways, when describing the changing landscape, his thoughts on the countries he passes, and his experiences of being on the trains, it definitely has the feel of a dairy or journal, however, when meeting people or having conversations you can't help read it like a novel, apart from that is when he gets to hang out with Jorge Luis Borges in Buenos Aires.
Starting on the Boston subway on a freezing cold day, Theroux sets off on his adventure, after stopping in Chicago he heads south through Mississippi, Texas and before you know it we are in Mexico, this all happens within the first 50 pages or so, so the bulk of reading is set mostly in central and south America. And it's here where the problems start, the heat for one thing plays a part in Theroux's restlessness and irritation and his writing changes from the calm before.
It's safe to say he didn't think much of Guatemala, El Salvador or Nicaragua, and is constantly referring to the small towns as filthy rat holes, full of huge muddy puddles, crumbling buildings, foul smells, bug infested hotel rooms and squalid huts used as ticket stations, this becomes repetitive and annoying, but he can only go by what he sees with his own eyes, never does Theroux turn something into which it is not. He just wasn't prepared for the culture shock, and fully realizing just how bad some places are. But back on the train and heading into Costa Rica he was looking forward to what is described as one of the most beautiful rail routes in the world, from the capital in the mountains, through deep valleys on the north east, to the tropical coast, which because of it's rich jungle, Columbus named Costa Rica when touched on his forth voyage in 1502.
Whist traveling alone, he never gets the chance to be lonely, striking up chat with locals, talking of religion, politics and how one makes a living, there are also fellow travelers who always try to out do each other on where there have been. Theroux would watch an ill-tempered football match between El Salvador and Mexico, badly cut his hand and spend most of the time worrying about infection, get altitude sickness that ruined his journey through the Peruvian Andes and Machu Picchu, this had passengers sucking oxygen out of balloons as a way to ease the suffering, and bizarrely get a grand tour of a mortuary after he befriends a funeral director close to the Panama Canal, his quest was certainly not a dull one.
There are moments of humor also, he would chat to a group of drunks about how it seems the whole of central America in under military dictatorship, and pass through Colombia on the eve of an election making comments about the drugs trade. On a more serious note the children that Theroux encounters are well below the poverty line, like when he finds three young boys sleeping rough in a doorway, barely-clothed, using each other for warmth, one with a deathly cough. Whilst just down the road there are huge condo's, and tourists busily spending, how can people just be left to rot?, where a country is more concerned for visitors than their own people. I thought the rich/poor divide was bad enough in other parts of the world.
Undoubtedly the finest moment in the book comes in Argentina, and has nothing to do with trains, Theroux would meet up with Jorge Luis Borges in his Buenos Aires apartment, browse through his monumental collection of books (supposedly the biggest owned by any South American at the time)
go out for dinner at a fine restaurant after eating poorly for weeks, walk him back home and indulge in book talk. Borges, who was blind by now, even gets Paul to read him Poe and Kipling, no different from how a parent would read to a child at bedtime, this was really moving, and a great touch as we head towards the end. Once Theroux reaches Patagonia in all it's nothingness, he would reflect back on the past few months, and have a little laugh when thinking back to that day when he left a freezing Boston, with people on the subway, who were only just heading off to work.
Reading Paul Theroux's epic rail journey from a snowy Boston all the way down to the vast emptiness of the Patagonian plateau has certainly opened my eyes as to what's possible, it was a great pleasure, but not without pitfalls. Writing in his introduction he says that some people view a travel book as a type of novel, and that others who have turned little trips into huge odysseys where self-dramatization or invention is inevitable, but Paul sets out to not to take a long journey as an inspiration to write, but simply write about the journey whilst he's on it. After completion I view this in two ways, when describing the changing landscape, his thoughts on the countries he passes, and his experiences of being on the trains, it definitely has the feel of a dairy or journal, however, when meeting people or having conversations you can't help read it like a novel, apart from that is when he gets to hang out with Jorge Luis Borges in Buenos Aires.
Starting on the Boston subway on a freezing cold day, Theroux sets off on his adventure, after stopping in Chicago he heads south through Mississippi, Texas and before you know it we are in Mexico, this all happens within the first 50 pages or so, so the bulk of reading is set mostly in central and south America. And it's here where the problems start, the heat for one thing plays a part in Theroux's restlessness and irritation and his writing changes from the calm before.
It's safe to say he didn't think much of Guatemala, El Salvador or Nicaragua, and is constantly referring to the small towns as filthy rat holes, full of huge muddy puddles, crumbling buildings, foul smells, bug infested hotel rooms and squalid huts used as ticket stations, this becomes repetitive and annoying, but he can only go by what he sees with his own eyes, never does Theroux turn something into which it is not. He just wasn't prepared for the culture shock, and fully realizing just how bad some places are. But back on the train and heading into Costa Rica he was looking forward to what is described as one of the most beautiful rail routes in the world, from the capital in the mountains, through deep valleys on the north east, to the tropical coast, which because of it's rich jungle, Columbus named Costa Rica when touched on his forth voyage in 1502.
Whist traveling alone, he never gets the chance to be lonely, striking up chat with locals, talking of religion, politics and how one makes a living, there are also fellow travelers who always try to out do each other on where there have been. Theroux would watch an ill-tempered football match between El Salvador and Mexico, badly cut his hand and spend most of the time worrying about infection, get altitude sickness that ruined his journey through the Peruvian Andes and Machu Picchu, this had passengers sucking oxygen out of balloons as a way to ease the suffering, and bizarrely get a grand tour of a mortuary after he befriends a funeral director close to the Panama Canal, his quest was certainly not a dull one.
There are moments of humor also, he would chat to a group of drunks about how it seems the whole of central America in under military dictatorship, and pass through Colombia on the eve of an election making comments about the drugs trade. On a more serious note the children that Theroux encounters are well below the poverty line, like when he finds three young boys sleeping rough in a doorway, barely-clothed, using each other for warmth, one with a deathly cough. Whilst just down the road there are huge condo's, and tourists busily spending, how can people just be left to rot?, where a country is more concerned for visitors than their own people. I thought the rich/poor divide was bad enough in other parts of the world.
Undoubtedly the finest moment in the book comes in Argentina, and has nothing to do with trains, Theroux would meet up with Jorge Luis Borges in his Buenos Aires apartment, browse through his monumental collection of books (supposedly the biggest owned by any South American at the time)
go out for dinner at a fine restaurant after eating poorly for weeks, walk him back home and indulge in book talk. Borges, who was blind by now, even gets Paul to read him Poe and Kipling, no different from how a parent would read to a child at bedtime, this was really moving, and a great touch as we head towards the end. Once Theroux reaches Patagonia in all it's nothingness, he would reflect back on the past few months, and have a little laugh when thinking back to that day when he left a freezing Boston, with people on the subway, who were only just heading off to work.
December 25, 2024
This book tells the story of Paul Theroux’s journey from his home in Boston, Massachusetts, to the foot of South America in 1978. He travelled almost exclusively by train – many different trains – and it took him about two months to reach his final destination at Esquel. From the snow of North America, through the heat of Central and South America and finally the barren desert of Patagonia, I found myself held spellbound throughout.
Theroux clearly completed exhaustive research beforehand and had figured out a route that took him through Chicago and down to Laredo, Texas, where he crossed the border into Mexico. From there took he took in much of Central America (though he skipped troubled Nicaragua) before travelling through Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and finally, Argentina And though the route itself was pre-planned, it’s clear that in this pre-internet age, the ability to accurately access train timetables and therefore schedule travel with any degree of precision was extremely limited. And anyway, trains often ran late or were halted en route - sometimes for significant periods of time.
He initially positioned himself as an inquisitive but mildly truculent traveller, but as the journey progressed he seemed to relax into the pace of it and provided, increasingly, glimpses of not only his humour but also his intelligence and his powers of observation. In fact, though he clearly enjoyed the role of solitary traveller, he clearly went out of his way to talk to as many locals as he could along the way. His accounts of some of these conversations were illuminating and very often hilarious. It helped that he speaks Spanish (thus, possibly, his chosen route avoiding Portuguese speaking Brazil) and sometimes he’d listen in to chatting locals who were unaware that he could understand their jibes directed at ‘gringos’ in general and, sometimes, at him in person. But most people he met were friendly, and they very often went out of their way to be helpful.
I’ve heard Theroux previously stated that to be able to travel and truly see a country, it is necessary to avoid the luxury of the rich tourist and also to take your time. He successfully achieves both here, and yet it’s clear that the journey was, at times, tediously boring and that he stayed in some pretty poor – and sometimes rat or cockroach infested – accommodation. But his accounts of the colourful characters he met and his meticulous and brilliantly crafted passages capturing his reflections on the places passed along the way and visited are not to be missed. I found his time spent visiting the Panama Canal Zone (an unincorporated territory of the US until shortly after the author’s visit) to be particularly engaging. When he met the local mortician, who also happened to sing with in barber shop quartet, he observed in his voice: a melodious croon, a singer’s modulation and a morticians concerned coo.
I listened to this book on audio, read superbly by Norman Dietz, who was brilliantly able to mimic a range of accents that (to me) seemed to bring a degree of local colour to the conversations. This was demonstrated best of all when Theroux met with author Jorge Louis Borges in Buenos Aires. The section detailing these meetings was a true joy and had me laughing out loud constantly. Pure magic!
I read (and listen to books read by others) in order to feed my mind and to be entertained. This book achieved both aims. Theroux is a brilliant travelling companion, a well-read and deeply interesting man in his own right and a natural storyteller to boot. What more can anyone ask for. I loved this book, and I’m certainly going to accompany this man on another of his journeys very soon.
Theroux clearly completed exhaustive research beforehand and had figured out a route that took him through Chicago and down to Laredo, Texas, where he crossed the border into Mexico. From there took he took in much of Central America (though he skipped troubled Nicaragua) before travelling through Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and finally, Argentina And though the route itself was pre-planned, it’s clear that in this pre-internet age, the ability to accurately access train timetables and therefore schedule travel with any degree of precision was extremely limited. And anyway, trains often ran late or were halted en route - sometimes for significant periods of time.
He initially positioned himself as an inquisitive but mildly truculent traveller, but as the journey progressed he seemed to relax into the pace of it and provided, increasingly, glimpses of not only his humour but also his intelligence and his powers of observation. In fact, though he clearly enjoyed the role of solitary traveller, he clearly went out of his way to talk to as many locals as he could along the way. His accounts of some of these conversations were illuminating and very often hilarious. It helped that he speaks Spanish (thus, possibly, his chosen route avoiding Portuguese speaking Brazil) and sometimes he’d listen in to chatting locals who were unaware that he could understand their jibes directed at ‘gringos’ in general and, sometimes, at him in person. But most people he met were friendly, and they very often went out of their way to be helpful.
I’ve heard Theroux previously stated that to be able to travel and truly see a country, it is necessary to avoid the luxury of the rich tourist and also to take your time. He successfully achieves both here, and yet it’s clear that the journey was, at times, tediously boring and that he stayed in some pretty poor – and sometimes rat or cockroach infested – accommodation. But his accounts of the colourful characters he met and his meticulous and brilliantly crafted passages capturing his reflections on the places passed along the way and visited are not to be missed. I found his time spent visiting the Panama Canal Zone (an unincorporated territory of the US until shortly after the author’s visit) to be particularly engaging. When he met the local mortician, who also happened to sing with in barber shop quartet, he observed in his voice: a melodious croon, a singer’s modulation and a morticians concerned coo.
I listened to this book on audio, read superbly by Norman Dietz, who was brilliantly able to mimic a range of accents that (to me) seemed to bring a degree of local colour to the conversations. This was demonstrated best of all when Theroux met with author Jorge Louis Borges in Buenos Aires. The section detailing these meetings was a true joy and had me laughing out loud constantly. Pure magic!
I read (and listen to books read by others) in order to feed my mind and to be entertained. This book achieved both aims. Theroux is a brilliant travelling companion, a well-read and deeply interesting man in his own right and a natural storyteller to boot. What more can anyone ask for. I loved this book, and I’m certainly going to accompany this man on another of his journeys very soon.
February 18, 2021
Theroux’s non-fiction books can scarcely be classified as travel books. They are not tourist guides, not for those planning to travel to the countries Theroux visits. The places he visits are not the places tourists visit. He is there for the ride. He is there to observe the people, just ordinary people. What he delivers are his personal thoughts on what he sees and the people he meets. Particularly this book, is more about the act of traveling rather than the places visited. We peek into Theroux’s head. I would say this book is as much or even more about Theroux than the places visited. No, that is wrong, you learn both about the author and about places. You learn about the countries, the mentality of the people living there and the feel of the land.
He travels without credit cards, without a camera or a tape recorder. He listens to people, ordinary people he meets along the way. During the off hours along the route, he transcribes from his notes what these people have said and what he has seen. He expresses himself wonderfully. It is his ability to capture in words his impressions that makes the book special. There is humor, often ironical in tone. The people he meets, I think, have to make you chuckle……but maybe not! He expresses his views, many of which I share. Maybe, if you do not share his views--on literature, on art, on politics, on colonialism, on race, on gender issues—then maybe the book is not going to say much to you as it did to me. You may then see Theroux as simply a cranky, whiny American traveler. If you agree with his views, you will smile and nod your head and marvel at his ability to capture in words landscapes and scenes and people’s behavior and things you have yourself thought but lack the ability to express with his lucidity.
On this journey he hops on the subway commuter train from his home in Massachusetts, along with all the others going off to work. Theroux, he is off to Esquel, Patagonia, Argentina. He will be traveling by train, pretty much all the way, that being the whole idea of the trip, to travel from northern North America to southern South America on one long continuous train trip. Small sections are done by boat, bus and air, when the train was out of the question. All advised him against such a crazy endeavor, but no one stole from him as everyone warned and in fact no real calamity ever befell him. Sure, he got a cut on his hand, that would not stop bleeding, and altitude sickness, but this had to be expected given the mountains traversed, and there were endless hours of waiting and delays and food that the mere thought of makes you gag. But he did it, the whole trip from north to south, and he made it in one piece! That is quite an achievement.
The reward? The memories of what he saw and the people he met. He met people and saw places and ruminates about what it all means. This is what he gives back to us. Thank you, Theroux. I appreciate your gift.
He travels two to three months in the year 1978. He leaves the snow and cold up in the north, arriving in the dusty desert and plateau lands in Patagonia. He travels on Amtrak through the US, continuing through Mexico, Central America (Guatemala, El Salvador, Costa Rica up and Panama), through Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and finally into Argentina. Down to Buenos Aires where he met up with Jorge Luis Borges. The two could not stop talking; day after day they had to meet again and talk and talk some more. But the trip had to be continued, so off Theroux goes, off further south to the endpoint destination, Esquel, Patagonia, the end of the rail.
We go to a soccer match in San Salvador. We talk with a woman who has been duped; she thinks she is in love with a guy who has TB and to whom she has given a large sum of money. She also owns parts of slums! The people, the people the strange people we meet! Oh, Mr.Thornberry, he is seventy-one, from New Hampshire. His one word sentences and his ever observant eye catching the “pipeline” must make everyone laugh.
Theroux travels to places people do not go to, avoiding large cities as much as possible. He gives lectures along the way. He tells others he is a geography teacher, but Theroux is not just a geography teacher. He knows books and he has seen so much of the world and he has taken the time to think about what he has seen and what he has read.
Political events of the time are interwoven; these being the things people he meets talk of. Although Nicaragua is not traveled through, borders were closed, all spoke of the Civil War and the corruption, the atrocities taking place there. The Treaty with Panama concerning its take over of the Canal Zone was in the process of being ratified. History is covered; the past and the present interlaced. Bolivar is discussed. Colombian drug wars. Mountain passes are taken and the stoical, good-tempered, noncomplaining people who live there are met. We pass over a gorge, in a rickety train with loose doors and no windowpanes; we look down at the birds flying below! After the Spanish conquest of the Inca Empire in the 16th century, Quechua, the ancient language of the Incas, is still spoken by the indigenous people. Theroux talks to them, but in Spanish of course. In Peru, train strikes threaten and occur, and government mismanagement is spoken of. Between Argentina and Chile,the Beagle border conflict, a dispute over the possession of the Lennox, Picton and Nueva islands, brought the countries to the brink of war. This too was in 1978.
Theroux reads books. He reads them constantly. He almost always has a book in his hand. He shares what he is reading with us. He shares his thoughts, both positive and negative, on The Life of Samuel Johnson by James Boswell. on The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allan Poe and the works of Rudyard Kipling and Jack London and Mark Twain, poetry too, for example by John Donne. Both Borges and Theroux praise Thomas Hardy’s poems over his novels. When Jorge Luis Borges and Theroux get talking about books, it is a unique experience to listen in on. What they say to each other is straightforward, blatant and honest. The energy, the spark in their conversations is electric. Borges is seventy-nine years old and he is blind. Theroux reads to him; Borges recites complete verses from Kipling.
The audiobook narration by Norman Dietz is very, very good. I settled on four stars but was even considering five. He captures well the irony in the Theroux’s humor. He pauses right when he should. The speed is perfect. He renders different dialects well. For example, when Theroux meets up with a priest from Belfast, you hear that is where he is from. The Spanish speakers do sound a bit all the same; this is why I have given the audio performance four rather than five stars.
I highly recommend this book.
************************
*Deep South: Four Seasons on Back Roads 4 stars
*The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas 4 stars
*Ghost Train to the Eastern Star 4 stars
*The Last Train to Zona Verde: My Ultimate African Safari 4 stars
Next, I will try a book of fiction by Theroux. The Mosquito Coast seems appropriate. Given what he knows about the people and places in Central America, I am curious to see the story he will draw and the words he will use to tell it.
He travels without credit cards, without a camera or a tape recorder. He listens to people, ordinary people he meets along the way. During the off hours along the route, he transcribes from his notes what these people have said and what he has seen. He expresses himself wonderfully. It is his ability to capture in words his impressions that makes the book special. There is humor, often ironical in tone. The people he meets, I think, have to make you chuckle……but maybe not! He expresses his views, many of which I share. Maybe, if you do not share his views--on literature, on art, on politics, on colonialism, on race, on gender issues—then maybe the book is not going to say much to you as it did to me. You may then see Theroux as simply a cranky, whiny American traveler. If you agree with his views, you will smile and nod your head and marvel at his ability to capture in words landscapes and scenes and people’s behavior and things you have yourself thought but lack the ability to express with his lucidity.
On this journey he hops on the subway commuter train from his home in Massachusetts, along with all the others going off to work. Theroux, he is off to Esquel, Patagonia, Argentina. He will be traveling by train, pretty much all the way, that being the whole idea of the trip, to travel from northern North America to southern South America on one long continuous train trip. Small sections are done by boat, bus and air, when the train was out of the question. All advised him against such a crazy endeavor, but no one stole from him as everyone warned and in fact no real calamity ever befell him. Sure, he got a cut on his hand, that would not stop bleeding, and altitude sickness, but this had to be expected given the mountains traversed, and there were endless hours of waiting and delays and food that the mere thought of makes you gag. But he did it, the whole trip from north to south, and he made it in one piece! That is quite an achievement.
The reward? The memories of what he saw and the people he met. He met people and saw places and ruminates about what it all means. This is what he gives back to us. Thank you, Theroux. I appreciate your gift.
He travels two to three months in the year 1978. He leaves the snow and cold up in the north, arriving in the dusty desert and plateau lands in Patagonia. He travels on Amtrak through the US, continuing through Mexico, Central America (Guatemala, El Salvador, Costa Rica up and Panama), through Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and finally into Argentina. Down to Buenos Aires where he met up with Jorge Luis Borges. The two could not stop talking; day after day they had to meet again and talk and talk some more. But the trip had to be continued, so off Theroux goes, off further south to the endpoint destination, Esquel, Patagonia, the end of the rail.
We go to a soccer match in San Salvador. We talk with a woman who has been duped; she thinks she is in love with a guy who has TB and to whom she has given a large sum of money. She also owns parts of slums! The people, the people the strange people we meet! Oh, Mr.Thornberry, he is seventy-one, from New Hampshire. His one word sentences and his ever observant eye catching the “pipeline” must make everyone laugh.
Theroux travels to places people do not go to, avoiding large cities as much as possible. He gives lectures along the way. He tells others he is a geography teacher, but Theroux is not just a geography teacher. He knows books and he has seen so much of the world and he has taken the time to think about what he has seen and what he has read.
Political events of the time are interwoven; these being the things people he meets talk of. Although Nicaragua is not traveled through, borders were closed, all spoke of the Civil War and the corruption, the atrocities taking place there. The Treaty with Panama concerning its take over of the Canal Zone was in the process of being ratified. History is covered; the past and the present interlaced. Bolivar is discussed. Colombian drug wars. Mountain passes are taken and the stoical, good-tempered, noncomplaining people who live there are met. We pass over a gorge, in a rickety train with loose doors and no windowpanes; we look down at the birds flying below! After the Spanish conquest of the Inca Empire in the 16th century, Quechua, the ancient language of the Incas, is still spoken by the indigenous people. Theroux talks to them, but in Spanish of course. In Peru, train strikes threaten and occur, and government mismanagement is spoken of. Between Argentina and Chile,the Beagle border conflict, a dispute over the possession of the Lennox, Picton and Nueva islands, brought the countries to the brink of war. This too was in 1978.
Theroux reads books. He reads them constantly. He almost always has a book in his hand. He shares what he is reading with us. He shares his thoughts, both positive and negative, on The Life of Samuel Johnson by James Boswell. on The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allan Poe and the works of Rudyard Kipling and Jack London and Mark Twain, poetry too, for example by John Donne. Both Borges and Theroux praise Thomas Hardy’s poems over his novels. When Jorge Luis Borges and Theroux get talking about books, it is a unique experience to listen in on. What they say to each other is straightforward, blatant and honest. The energy, the spark in their conversations is electric. Borges is seventy-nine years old and he is blind. Theroux reads to him; Borges recites complete verses from Kipling.
The audiobook narration by Norman Dietz is very, very good. I settled on four stars but was even considering five. He captures well the irony in the Theroux’s humor. He pauses right when he should. The speed is perfect. He renders different dialects well. For example, when Theroux meets up with a priest from Belfast, you hear that is where he is from. The Spanish speakers do sound a bit all the same; this is why I have given the audio performance four rather than five stars.
I highly recommend this book.
************************
*Deep South: Four Seasons on Back Roads 4 stars
*The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas 4 stars
*Ghost Train to the Eastern Star 4 stars
*The Last Train to Zona Verde: My Ultimate African Safari 4 stars
Next, I will try a book of fiction by Theroux. The Mosquito Coast seems appropriate. Given what he knows about the people and places in Central America, I am curious to see the story he will draw and the words he will use to tell it.
February 1, 2013
I am willing to change my mind. Someone said that they liked the descriptions of this travel novel but would hate to have to go anywhere with this author. I would prefer to hear about these places through the perspective of someone else. Theroux is hard to read not due to the complexity of his prose, but because of his voice. He is stuck up, self- aggrandizing, and misanthropic. What distinguishes Theroux from other misanthropes who may be worth reading is that he himself does not offer much to the reader with regards to intellect or insight. His cultural critiques and personal critiques of the people he encounters in his travels are sophomoric at best. Worse, he shows none of the humility expected of a travel writer protagonist. His personality obstructs our view into the worlds he visits. Every person or place he encounters serves as a platform for his personal self - aggrandizement. If there is any other author who has written about his or her railroad excursions through the Americas, I would much rather read them. Until then I am afraid that I will not be able to finish this train trip to patagonia with Theroux as my guide.
January 11, 2020
I am a fan of Paul Theroux ... just so you know. ;)
Having said that, unfortunately, I'm not a big fan of this particular book. It was just 'okay', in my humble opinion. Usually, when reading Theroux, I am drawn into the journey, and find myself truly caring about the people, the places, and, of course, Paul's thoughts and feelings. Not this time. Maybe it is just me. Your mileage may vary.
I did enjoy reading the conversations he had with the folks he met ... well, most of them, anyway. But, somehow, the rest of the book just felt 'flat' to me.
3 Stars = It was just 'okay', but not sorry I read it.
Having said that, unfortunately, I'm not a big fan of this particular book. It was just 'okay', in my humble opinion. Usually, when reading Theroux, I am drawn into the journey, and find myself truly caring about the people, the places, and, of course, Paul's thoughts and feelings. Not this time. Maybe it is just me. Your mileage may vary.
I did enjoy reading the conversations he had with the folks he met ... well, most of them, anyway. But, somehow, the rest of the book just felt 'flat' to me.
3 Stars = It was just 'okay', but not sorry I read it.
November 15, 2012
I suppose Paul Theroux’s travel writing isn’t for everyone. If you don’t like his traveling persona you aren’t likely to enjoy his books. That being said, I like his traveling persona, so every travel book is a pleasure and there are still books to be read. But I decided to read The Old Patagonia Express because a friend reminded me that he travels to South America in this book. South America is a place that I have had a recent interest in and this summer I made my first visit to the continent when I attended a conference in Peru. I often travel alone like Theroux, for different reasons perhaps. Theroux writes about travel being its best as a solitary experience in that you get to see, examine, assess alone, which is something that requires that you be unencumbered with a companion. I’m not sure that I completely agree but I feel that traveling alone does give you this perspective. In my case few people have the time or inclination to travel the way I do, so I tend to visit friends in far flung places and combine work with leisure travel. I would rather have companions, but I agree that you have better mediation while traveling alone with the time and peace to think clearly without the company of other people.
I am also an avid reader and traveling gives you ample time to read, something, which Theroux always incorporates into his travel writing. During this trip he takes a somewhat academic approach. During the first leg he reads obscure novels from some of America’s most famous authors: The Wild Palms by Faulkner, Pudd’nhead Wilson by Mark Twain, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allen Poe, and The Assassination Bureau, Ltd. By Jack London. Of these he has persuaded me to read the Twain and Poe works, the Poe novel he called the most horrifying novel he has ever read. Some of his other light reading includes The Life of Samuel Johnson by Thomas Boswell (he read this large tome twice! on the journey) and The Pledge: Requiem for the Detective Novel by Friedrich Durrenmatt. In the final chapter he visits Jorge Luis Borges and reads him Kipling, it seems that while he was traveling The New York Times book review ran an article by Theroux on Kipling so he was able to visit Borges who he shared a publisher with. In fact, Theroux’s whole section on Argentina was so complimentary that he inspired me to give up my plans for going to Brazil next year for a conference in favor of Argentina. This books comes across as somewhat exotic since it was written in the late 70s when there were many dictators and eroding states in Central and South America. The Peru and Panama he writes of no longer exist and are far different from what I encountered in visits to these two countries in the last two years. Panama is thriving as they expand the canal, which was still in dispute when Theroux visited where he stayed among the American Zonians. He had no affection for Torres the way that Graham Greene did, who was visiting Panama during the same time. Peru was a backwater and had yet to endure the long terrorist-counterterrorist war of the 90s. It is now one of the leading economies in South America. In addition, he does an excellent job of describing and characterizing those budget travelers who boast of the currency exchange rates and $5 a day budgets-among the most tedious of travelers in my opinion, of which there is no shortage of in SE Asia. While traveling through Costa Rica he talks of inspiration for a novel set there on the Mosquito Coast about a family of castaways based on the missionaries he sees while traveling in Central America. This would, of course, becomes one of his great successes, the novel The Mosquito Coast (which was subsequently made into a film starring Harrison Ford). I really enjoyed this book and it gave me a lot of food for thought, inspired me to seek out some of those forgotten American classics as well as move Argentina up on my list of countries to visit.
I am also an avid reader and traveling gives you ample time to read, something, which Theroux always incorporates into his travel writing. During this trip he takes a somewhat academic approach. During the first leg he reads obscure novels from some of America’s most famous authors: The Wild Palms by Faulkner, Pudd’nhead Wilson by Mark Twain, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allen Poe, and The Assassination Bureau, Ltd. By Jack London. Of these he has persuaded me to read the Twain and Poe works, the Poe novel he called the most horrifying novel he has ever read. Some of his other light reading includes The Life of Samuel Johnson by Thomas Boswell (he read this large tome twice! on the journey) and The Pledge: Requiem for the Detective Novel by Friedrich Durrenmatt. In the final chapter he visits Jorge Luis Borges and reads him Kipling, it seems that while he was traveling The New York Times book review ran an article by Theroux on Kipling so he was able to visit Borges who he shared a publisher with. In fact, Theroux’s whole section on Argentina was so complimentary that he inspired me to give up my plans for going to Brazil next year for a conference in favor of Argentina. This books comes across as somewhat exotic since it was written in the late 70s when there were many dictators and eroding states in Central and South America. The Peru and Panama he writes of no longer exist and are far different from what I encountered in visits to these two countries in the last two years. Panama is thriving as they expand the canal, which was still in dispute when Theroux visited where he stayed among the American Zonians. He had no affection for Torres the way that Graham Greene did, who was visiting Panama during the same time. Peru was a backwater and had yet to endure the long terrorist-counterterrorist war of the 90s. It is now one of the leading economies in South America. In addition, he does an excellent job of describing and characterizing those budget travelers who boast of the currency exchange rates and $5 a day budgets-among the most tedious of travelers in my opinion, of which there is no shortage of in SE Asia. While traveling through Costa Rica he talks of inspiration for a novel set there on the Mosquito Coast about a family of castaways based on the missionaries he sees while traveling in Central America. This would, of course, becomes one of his great successes, the novel The Mosquito Coast (which was subsequently made into a film starring Harrison Ford). I really enjoyed this book and it gave me a lot of food for thought, inspired me to seek out some of those forgotten American classics as well as move Argentina up on my list of countries to visit.
July 10, 2025
Here, Theroux is writing about the journey. He does not suddenly teleport to Patagonia from Medford, Massachusetts. He can do this because he is going to travel by train and not plane. Although, the Irish comedian, Ed Byrne, once said; ‘People who say travel is half the fun, must be having really bad holidays’. Theroux is not on holiday mind and does not always have fun.
He is going to talk to people and the first person that he writes about talking to before he even leaves the US is a woman on the train who objects to his pipe smoke and calls herself a ‘raw-foodist-non-dairy vegetarian’. A great conversation it is to. Made me laugh out loud. Sets it up nicely for all the other conversations he has. For this trip he has learned Spanish so he can talk to people or just listen in to conversations.
Theroux tells it how it is and he certainly has his opinions. Doing this by train he does get to see the countries he is travelling through. He provides the reader with the current state of each country and mixes that with historical facts. His observations are so clear and once he hits Guatemala there is a real shift. This is 1978 and Central America was a bit of a basket case.
He winds his way down meeting some interesting characters on the way. ‘I had been in Latin America long enough by now to know that there was a class stigma attached to the trains. Only the semi-destitute, the limpers, the barefoot ones, the Indians, and the half-cracked yokels took the trains, or knew anything about them. For this reason, it was a good introduction to the social miseries and scenic splendours of the continent.’
Theroux’s writing is not going to be to everyone’s taste but I get immersed in it. For the first couple of books of his this was not the case but once I got to know his character and writing style it just makes these travel books all the better and I am still happy that I have some more to read. His travels do not make me want me to jump up, pack my bag and head off. I am glad he did them and shared.
As always I had to have the dictionary handy with words like; monologuist, rubious, turves, hawser, meretricious and so on. 😊
He is going to talk to people and the first person that he writes about talking to before he even leaves the US is a woman on the train who objects to his pipe smoke and calls herself a ‘raw-foodist-non-dairy vegetarian’. A great conversation it is to. Made me laugh out loud. Sets it up nicely for all the other conversations he has. For this trip he has learned Spanish so he can talk to people or just listen in to conversations.
Theroux tells it how it is and he certainly has his opinions. Doing this by train he does get to see the countries he is travelling through. He provides the reader with the current state of each country and mixes that with historical facts. His observations are so clear and once he hits Guatemala there is a real shift. This is 1978 and Central America was a bit of a basket case.
He winds his way down meeting some interesting characters on the way. ‘I had been in Latin America long enough by now to know that there was a class stigma attached to the trains. Only the semi-destitute, the limpers, the barefoot ones, the Indians, and the half-cracked yokels took the trains, or knew anything about them. For this reason, it was a good introduction to the social miseries and scenic splendours of the continent.’
Theroux’s writing is not going to be to everyone’s taste but I get immersed in it. For the first couple of books of his this was not the case but once I got to know his character and writing style it just makes these travel books all the better and I am still happy that I have some more to read. His travels do not make me want me to jump up, pack my bag and head off. I am glad he did them and shared.
As always I had to have the dictionary handy with words like; monologuist, rubious, turves, hawser, meretricious and so on. 😊
April 2, 2022
My third Paul Theroux book! Last year I first came across Theroux's non-fiction work The Happy Isles of Oceania: Paddling the Pacific (1992) which I thoroughly enjoyed. Then I read his fiction work The Mosquito Coast (1981). Theroux's voice sounds radically different in fiction compared to his non-fiction, which I think is a good thing. Now I've returned to another of his non-fiction work, namely “The Old Patagonian Express” (1979).
As the name suggests, Theroux traveled from his home in Boston all the way down to Esquel, Patagonia (Argentina). It took him around two months. At first, he traveled by train through the US, Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador. This part of the journey went by smooth and he managed to cross the borders easily. However, from El Salvador he had to take a plane to Costa Rica. He skipped Nicaragua because a civil war was raging in the country and people advised him against travelling there (which he later regretted). And he didn't write about Honduras in this book, because he would later publish a fiction story along the Mosquito coast. In Costa Rica and Panama, he could only travel on train within the country because the railways don't cross the borders.
It is very difficult for me to find books set in Central America. This is one of the main reason why I picked up Theroux's "The Old Patagonian Express." Of course, I reminded myself that all of this was taking place in 1978 and that many things must have changed already. But it was nice to get a feel of the region there. Some people hate Theroux, feeling that he is cynical, arrogant and a pain in the a**. However, I think that Theroux is a very keen observer of the environment around him, he is informed about the places he visits and genuinely outraged by poverty and injustice.
In the Central American portion of the book, Theroux met a variety of interesting characters. The American woman, who got swindled by her Mexican lover in Veracruz (asking Theroux for love advice). The young Salvadorean businessmen, who were playing hooky and taking Theroux to a crazy football game. The 70-year-old American tourist Mr. Thornberry, who just wanted to look at monkeys and parrots, but ended up becoming the unlikely hero for Theroux in Limon. The Americans, who worked in the Panama Canal Zone and were hesitant to leave after the "handover" in 1979. I was also surprised to learn that the Caribbean coast of Central America is interspersed with English-speaking black populations (e.g. Jamaican railway workers in Costa Rica, Bajans working in Panama...). The funny thing is that most of the railways in Central America do not exist anymore. They have been replaced by buses and planes that travel much faster and are not that expensive anymore. So, Theroux unconsciously wrote a historical document too.
In South America, it was more difficult for Theroux to continue his journey on train. He initially rode a train in Colombia, but approaching the Andes, the tracks derailed and he had to take the bus. He didn't manage to cross over to Ecuador by railway. In Ecuador, he exclusively traveled by plane because the trains were always fully booked. He flew over to Peru, where he also ended up flying from Lima to Cuzco and only then boarded the train to Machu Picchu. From Cuzco, he took a bus ride to Puno and then an overnight boat ride across Lake Titicaca. Finally in La Paz (Bolivia) did he manage to take the train across the border to Argentina, all the way to Buenos Aires. Later he rode the Old Patagonian Express to Esquel (Patagonia). His meeting with Jorge Luis Borges in Buenos Aires was very heart-warming. I think that was my favorite part of the book. Throughout the book, Theroux also shared what books he read along the trip, which I also enjoyed. All in all, I would recommend this book only to those who enjoy travel writings and who are really interested in learning about Latin America. 3.5* rounded up to 4*.
"The funny thing about being smug and egocentric and thinking about health and purity all the time, is that it can turn you into a fascist. My diet, my bowels, my self - it's the way right-wring people talk. The next thing you know you'll be raving about the purity of the race."
"I do not consider myself to be an animal-lover, but it is a long way from disliking them to maiming and torturing them. And I came to see a resemblance between the condition of domestic animals and the condition of the people who mistreated them. It was the same contempt, and the whipped dog and the woman carrying wood had the same fearful eyes. And it was these beaten people who beat their animals."
"Politics is a hideous subject, but I will say this: people tell you that dictatorships are sometimes necessary to good order, and that this sort of highly-centralized government is stable and dependable. But this is seldom so. It is nearly always bureaucratic and crooked, unstable, fickle and barbarous; and it excites those same qualities in those it governs."
"Central America was haywire; [...] as if they had evolved into motiveless tyrannies and become forcing-houses of nationalism. It was no wonder that, seeing them as degenerate states, tycoons like Vanderbilt and imperial-minded companies like the United Fruit Company took them over and tried to run them."
"It was easy to understand how the Indians hereabouts had come to believe that their lands were inhabited by monster lords. Not only did the mountains have a monstrous aspect, the animal shapes and clumsy claws of giants and demons, but they growled and rumbled and trembled and hollered, and shook down the flimsy huts of the Indians; they burned the Indians alive and buried them in ashes and made their fish disappear and ate their children. And these oddities of landscape were still a source of fear."
"It was in Bogota, one grey afternoon that I read the following passage: 'Where a great proportion of the people are suffered to languish in helpless misery, that country must be ill-policed and wretchedly governed: a decent provision for the poor is the true test of civilization.' Gentlemen of education, he observed, were pretty much the same in all countries; the condition of the lower orders, the poor especially, was the true mark of national discrimination."
"The argument that five-star hotels benefit a country by producing employment is a silly and even subversive one - it turns nationals into waiters and scullery maids, and that is about all."
As the name suggests, Theroux traveled from his home in Boston all the way down to Esquel, Patagonia (Argentina). It took him around two months. At first, he traveled by train through the US, Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador. This part of the journey went by smooth and he managed to cross the borders easily. However, from El Salvador he had to take a plane to Costa Rica. He skipped Nicaragua because a civil war was raging in the country and people advised him against travelling there (which he later regretted). And he didn't write about Honduras in this book, because he would later publish a fiction story along the Mosquito coast. In Costa Rica and Panama, he could only travel on train within the country because the railways don't cross the borders.
It is very difficult for me to find books set in Central America. This is one of the main reason why I picked up Theroux's "The Old Patagonian Express." Of course, I reminded myself that all of this was taking place in 1978 and that many things must have changed already. But it was nice to get a feel of the region there. Some people hate Theroux, feeling that he is cynical, arrogant and a pain in the a**. However, I think that Theroux is a very keen observer of the environment around him, he is informed about the places he visits and genuinely outraged by poverty and injustice.
In the Central American portion of the book, Theroux met a variety of interesting characters. The American woman, who got swindled by her Mexican lover in Veracruz (asking Theroux for love advice). The young Salvadorean businessmen, who were playing hooky and taking Theroux to a crazy football game. The 70-year-old American tourist Mr. Thornberry, who just wanted to look at monkeys and parrots, but ended up becoming the unlikely hero for Theroux in Limon. The Americans, who worked in the Panama Canal Zone and were hesitant to leave after the "handover" in 1979. I was also surprised to learn that the Caribbean coast of Central America is interspersed with English-speaking black populations (e.g. Jamaican railway workers in Costa Rica, Bajans working in Panama...). The funny thing is that most of the railways in Central America do not exist anymore. They have been replaced by buses and planes that travel much faster and are not that expensive anymore. So, Theroux unconsciously wrote a historical document too.
In South America, it was more difficult for Theroux to continue his journey on train. He initially rode a train in Colombia, but approaching the Andes, the tracks derailed and he had to take the bus. He didn't manage to cross over to Ecuador by railway. In Ecuador, he exclusively traveled by plane because the trains were always fully booked. He flew over to Peru, where he also ended up flying from Lima to Cuzco and only then boarded the train to Machu Picchu. From Cuzco, he took a bus ride to Puno and then an overnight boat ride across Lake Titicaca. Finally in La Paz (Bolivia) did he manage to take the train across the border to Argentina, all the way to Buenos Aires. Later he rode the Old Patagonian Express to Esquel (Patagonia). His meeting with Jorge Luis Borges in Buenos Aires was very heart-warming. I think that was my favorite part of the book. Throughout the book, Theroux also shared what books he read along the trip, which I also enjoyed. All in all, I would recommend this book only to those who enjoy travel writings and who are really interested in learning about Latin America. 3.5* rounded up to 4*.
"The funny thing about being smug and egocentric and thinking about health and purity all the time, is that it can turn you into a fascist. My diet, my bowels, my self - it's the way right-wring people talk. The next thing you know you'll be raving about the purity of the race."
"I do not consider myself to be an animal-lover, but it is a long way from disliking them to maiming and torturing them. And I came to see a resemblance between the condition of domestic animals and the condition of the people who mistreated them. It was the same contempt, and the whipped dog and the woman carrying wood had the same fearful eyes. And it was these beaten people who beat their animals."
"Politics is a hideous subject, but I will say this: people tell you that dictatorships are sometimes necessary to good order, and that this sort of highly-centralized government is stable and dependable. But this is seldom so. It is nearly always bureaucratic and crooked, unstable, fickle and barbarous; and it excites those same qualities in those it governs."
"Central America was haywire; [...] as if they had evolved into motiveless tyrannies and become forcing-houses of nationalism. It was no wonder that, seeing them as degenerate states, tycoons like Vanderbilt and imperial-minded companies like the United Fruit Company took them over and tried to run them."
"It was easy to understand how the Indians hereabouts had come to believe that their lands were inhabited by monster lords. Not only did the mountains have a monstrous aspect, the animal shapes and clumsy claws of giants and demons, but they growled and rumbled and trembled and hollered, and shook down the flimsy huts of the Indians; they burned the Indians alive and buried them in ashes and made their fish disappear and ate their children. And these oddities of landscape were still a source of fear."
"It was in Bogota, one grey afternoon that I read the following passage: 'Where a great proportion of the people are suffered to languish in helpless misery, that country must be ill-policed and wretchedly governed: a decent provision for the poor is the true test of civilization.' Gentlemen of education, he observed, were pretty much the same in all countries; the condition of the lower orders, the poor especially, was the true mark of national discrimination."
"The argument that five-star hotels benefit a country by producing employment is a silly and even subversive one - it turns nationals into waiters and scullery maids, and that is about all."
April 23, 2014
BLUUURRRRGGH is the one word I would choose to describe this book. I might have somewhat enjoyed it were it not for the narrator, who is the most obnoxious and pretentious person on the planet. He makes many references throughout the book to trimming his pencil moustache, which he is growing specifically for his trip, and to packing the bowl of his pipe. He is snide and condescending to nearly everyone he meets, he refers to comics as good only for children and illiterates, and uses really flimsy contextual excuses to brag to the reader about all the languages he speaks. ("I assured the man my Cantonese was far from perfect...") I got the feeling that most of his conversations with other train passengers he only entered in on specifically so he could write about them later. And on top of all this, I found the prose to be lackluster, written as though by someone who's read too much 18th century travel-writing and filled with weird flourishes and descriptions like "this lovely little mountain pass" and "this good Indian woman". And even more on top of all that, it somehow managed to take this amazing, exciting continent and make it boring. Even taking into account the fact that South America in the '70s is a much different place from South America now, this guy barely got off the train in all of two months. So the book reads like train, train, train, bitch, moan, I am just like Leopold Bloom, South America is so dirty and backwards, this fine Indian woman is a credit to her republic even if she is an illiterate, I couldn't figure out why they all picked me out for a Gringo, especially since my pencil moustache was coming along so splendidly. The only part it actually got interesting was when he meets the writer Borges in Buenos Aires, but aside from that, this was the most joyless, jaded book I've read in ages. When he finally gets to Patagonia he doesn't celebrate in any way other than expressing some mild relief that the trip is over and he now gets to leave, which was exactly how I felt about the book.
April 19, 2012
Yes, he is a curmudgeon - but I still love his books.
This one in particular fed into my wish to " someday" travel. I was a poor student who thought travel was only for the rich. I didn't realize you could do it cheaply - if you don't mind a few discomforts. It gave the information I needed to take journeys that expanded my world view.
The book reads like a diary of his travel from Boston to Tierra del Fuego, most of the time by train. Along the way he meets both ordinary & famous people - most of whom he dislikes. At the beginning of his train trip he meets a self-centered young woman who gives him a rundown of her dietary needs and "sensitivities." She is a the first of many people who will annoy and confound him. He also manages to meet luminaries like Jorge Luis Borges. Even Borges doesn't distract him from train" schedules", breakdowns, people, and misunderstanding that - he thinks - exist only to thwart his enjoyment. He hates everyone and everything but manages to describe it all in hilarious prose.
I know many people dislike his grouchy persona - they wonder why he even travels. Give him a break - he is like one of those old - fashioned uncles (at least in literature) who fill your head with wonderful images of far away places while complaining about the most trivial problems. You know he's finicky, so all you take in is the wonder of discovering new places.
I will always love this book and Mr. Theroux for leading me out of small, Midwestern-town-USA. How else would I have found myself hitching a ride to Otoval market (ECUADOR) on top of a precarious truck carrying vegetables & chickens? Two Japanese sisters made the trip even more fun as we screamed & laughed all the way. A trip of a lifetime on a shoe string budget. Luckily I was young enough to ignore discomfort so that I could enjoy new vistas and people.
I will always keep my worn copy of this book. I give it 5 stars for inspiration, hilarity, and practical advice.
This one in particular fed into my wish to " someday" travel. I was a poor student who thought travel was only for the rich. I didn't realize you could do it cheaply - if you don't mind a few discomforts. It gave the information I needed to take journeys that expanded my world view.
The book reads like a diary of his travel from Boston to Tierra del Fuego, most of the time by train. Along the way he meets both ordinary & famous people - most of whom he dislikes. At the beginning of his train trip he meets a self-centered young woman who gives him a rundown of her dietary needs and "sensitivities." She is a the first of many people who will annoy and confound him. He also manages to meet luminaries like Jorge Luis Borges. Even Borges doesn't distract him from train" schedules", breakdowns, people, and misunderstanding that - he thinks - exist only to thwart his enjoyment. He hates everyone and everything but manages to describe it all in hilarious prose.
I know many people dislike his grouchy persona - they wonder why he even travels. Give him a break - he is like one of those old - fashioned uncles (at least in literature) who fill your head with wonderful images of far away places while complaining about the most trivial problems. You know he's finicky, so all you take in is the wonder of discovering new places.
I will always love this book and Mr. Theroux for leading me out of small, Midwestern-town-USA. How else would I have found myself hitching a ride to Otoval market (ECUADOR) on top of a precarious truck carrying vegetables & chickens? Two Japanese sisters made the trip even more fun as we screamed & laughed all the way. A trip of a lifetime on a shoe string budget. Luckily I was young enough to ignore discomfort so that I could enjoy new vistas and people.
I will always keep my worn copy of this book. I give it 5 stars for inspiration, hilarity, and practical advice.
August 12, 2023
Não dou 5 estrelas, porque achei o livro demasiado grande. A meio, o interesse começou a esmorecer.
January 27, 2015
I hate not finishing books, but this might be one of those I cannot finish. Or perhaps I'll finish it just to cement my bad opinion of it.
I first read Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux and must add that this was several years ago - I absolutely adored it at the time. I thought I would like this one just as much, and have been dying to buy it for a long time now. The author walks you through every place he travels, leaving you with a good sense of orientation and geography of the place he's travelled, at least that was the case with Dark Star Safari and so far it has been the case with this book too. That's really nice (no sarcasm intended)
But the rest of the book is not as enjoyable. I've rarely read a book by someone who is SO unbelievably arrogant and full of himself. And he also quite clearly makes comparisons with himself and other people and blatantly points out just how much more interesting and better he is. Such as at the very beginning of the book, talking about how the train was full of people going to work and he was going on a much longer and more interesting journey. Well, I'm so sorry Mr Theroux, that there are so many boring people out there who can't, in their middle ages, afford to just pack up all their things and leave behind their life and their responsibilities to go backpacking through the world, like an 18 year old high school graduate. That's exactly how I see him.
Well and also, he is probably one of those very people I hate talking to. One of those people who dump themselves beside you on a train and try and strike up conversation with you, when all you want is some peace and quiet. Then when they lure you into a conversation, they ask you all sorts of questions about yourself, who you are and where you're headed, then, because they have all the time in the world to waste and nothing better or more productive to do, they start asking you about your opinions on philosophy and politics and religion and more, (all those sensitive topics - my grandmother always says there are two things you cannot talk to people about and that's religion and politics, and she was a teacher too) to just walk away without having any input of their own, to judge you and feel good about themselves. That's not discussing. That's just being judgmental and a bloody smartarse.
Above all I get the feeling he thinks he's so much better than everyone else. And also, I think for someone his age to be bumming around in seedy hotels and bars and meandering through countries is rather...perhaps immature? Or is he just going through a midlife crises? You'd think someone his age would have a stable job, monthly payments and far more productive things to do than to sit on disgusting old trains, torture himself with a dirty and ragged journey, and get into conversations with random strangers.
Oh yes another word I thought of for him was "opinionated". And I hate people like that.
Wonderful writing style, although very negative, almost depressing, but that can be good in itself sometimes, and also a fantastic range of vocabulary but my goodness is he an arrogant, stuck-up and self-important snob. I would hate to meet him.
I might just re-read Dark Star Safari now, perhaps I've matured enough now to notice that's not such a good book anymore either. Oh but what do I know? Acccording to Paul Theroux, it's practically impossible for me to know much or be interesting at my age.
"[...]But i could not blame her for that: it is hard for anyone to be interesting at twenty." - page 19 when he first strikes up a conversation with Wendy.
Well thanks, Paul, I'm 22. But you know, I think you're just as boring as any odd backpacking teenager at best, because you seem to have no life of your own and no decent ideas to write up for a book either so you have to hop on crappy trains and take a grubby journey through South America and sit on trains all day and stare at every single person on it and take notes about them just so you can then publish a book about it. Yeah, that's what I call a really interesting person.
I first read Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux and must add that this was several years ago - I absolutely adored it at the time. I thought I would like this one just as much, and have been dying to buy it for a long time now. The author walks you through every place he travels, leaving you with a good sense of orientation and geography of the place he's travelled, at least that was the case with Dark Star Safari and so far it has been the case with this book too. That's really nice (no sarcasm intended)
But the rest of the book is not as enjoyable. I've rarely read a book by someone who is SO unbelievably arrogant and full of himself. And he also quite clearly makes comparisons with himself and other people and blatantly points out just how much more interesting and better he is. Such as at the very beginning of the book, talking about how the train was full of people going to work and he was going on a much longer and more interesting journey. Well, I'm so sorry Mr Theroux, that there are so many boring people out there who can't, in their middle ages, afford to just pack up all their things and leave behind their life and their responsibilities to go backpacking through the world, like an 18 year old high school graduate. That's exactly how I see him.
Well and also, he is probably one of those very people I hate talking to. One of those people who dump themselves beside you on a train and try and strike up conversation with you, when all you want is some peace and quiet. Then when they lure you into a conversation, they ask you all sorts of questions about yourself, who you are and where you're headed, then, because they have all the time in the world to waste and nothing better or more productive to do, they start asking you about your opinions on philosophy and politics and religion and more, (all those sensitive topics - my grandmother always says there are two things you cannot talk to people about and that's religion and politics, and she was a teacher too) to just walk away without having any input of their own, to judge you and feel good about themselves. That's not discussing. That's just being judgmental and a bloody smartarse.
Above all I get the feeling he thinks he's so much better than everyone else. And also, I think for someone his age to be bumming around in seedy hotels and bars and meandering through countries is rather...perhaps immature? Or is he just going through a midlife crises? You'd think someone his age would have a stable job, monthly payments and far more productive things to do than to sit on disgusting old trains, torture himself with a dirty and ragged journey, and get into conversations with random strangers.
Oh yes another word I thought of for him was "opinionated". And I hate people like that.
Wonderful writing style, although very negative, almost depressing, but that can be good in itself sometimes, and also a fantastic range of vocabulary but my goodness is he an arrogant, stuck-up and self-important snob. I would hate to meet him.
I might just re-read Dark Star Safari now, perhaps I've matured enough now to notice that's not such a good book anymore either. Oh but what do I know? Acccording to Paul Theroux, it's practically impossible for me to know much or be interesting at my age.
"[...]But i could not blame her for that: it is hard for anyone to be interesting at twenty." - page 19 when he first strikes up a conversation with Wendy.
Well thanks, Paul, I'm 22. But you know, I think you're just as boring as any odd backpacking teenager at best, because you seem to have no life of your own and no decent ideas to write up for a book either so you have to hop on crappy trains and take a grubby journey through South America and sit on trains all day and stare at every single person on it and take notes about them just so you can then publish a book about it. Yeah, that's what I call a really interesting person.
July 16, 2009
i love travel narrative and trains so i thought i'd love this but i gave it one star because the author is such a condescending prat to the people he meets. He manages to make sure his ideas stay intact and wipe away their whole philosophies with a puff of pipe smoke. I had to quit reading it. I'll go back to it and update my review when my prat-o-meter gets set back to zero. might take a while.
March 25, 2014
Felt like a really long book. I enjoyed it more from El Salvador onwards, although I personally find his writing style is, I don't know, maybe too detailed to keep my full attention.
August 28, 2024
As always, Theroux presents us with a wonderfully rambling, often difficult trip from Chicago's subway to the tip of South America.
His route is defined by its railway system, which often leaves Theroux stranded or concerned for his safety, not to mention wondering if certain trains would ever get him to where he needed to be.
As usual the conversations with fellow travellers that he has along the way are the most intriguing part of the journey - especially when you're listening to a narrative that sometimes gives you only a scant idea of the surrounding landscape.
My favourite part was the meeting Theroux has with the late Jorge Luis Borges, who, whilst also self-deprecating, had some damning criticism for other authors (Hardy to name but one). I could have cheerfully listened to this part for much longer.
In general, an interesting listen beautifully narrated by Norman Dietz.
His route is defined by its railway system, which often leaves Theroux stranded or concerned for his safety, not to mention wondering if certain trains would ever get him to where he needed to be.
As usual the conversations with fellow travellers that he has along the way are the most intriguing part of the journey - especially when you're listening to a narrative that sometimes gives you only a scant idea of the surrounding landscape.
My favourite part was the meeting Theroux has with the late Jorge Luis Borges, who, whilst also self-deprecating, had some damning criticism for other authors (Hardy to name but one). I could have cheerfully listened to this part for much longer.
In general, an interesting listen beautifully narrated by Norman Dietz.
July 23, 2023
Another awesome couch travel book from Theroux. This one has been in my TBR list for many years, since my first experiment with this author, The Pillars of Hercules. This is his second book of this kind and it takes you from the subway station close to his Boston house through the whole US, Central and South America straight to the end of the continent in Patagonia, Chile. The usual Theroux style, no frills, low cost, backpack kind of travel, he flies only (once) when there’s no train option, nothing new. Only when he was already crossing Costa Rica it hit me this trip was taken around 50 years ago, and things have changed a lot in these countries. In fact, nowadays this trip is impossible, as many of those train lines have been shut decades ago. Also, the under development of certain touristic areas strikes you as not really until you realize a lot has changed in the world during these last decades.
And yet, though I enjoyed the reading and the experience of traveling across the whole fo the Americas while sitting in my couch, it wasn’t so satisfying as many other Theroux books, namely because of his own mindset. In the “Last train to Zona Verde”, written I believe around a decade ago when he is now close to his seventies (unchecked fact, apologies), Paul is happy with his and others lives and he doesn’t complain, even when having to deal with extreme poverty in the Cape or in Angola, it’s all part of the game of life and being a child of the Universe. Having read it in 2013, when my personal and professional life was mirroring this trip, flying to and fro, between the Cape and Angola, its reading brought me a lot of satisfaction.
Maybe it’s my fault, for my love for Africa and because I still do not know enough about central and South America, but I am convinced this is written in a rather unhappy, constantly complaining state of mind, which makes it a different experience. For that, half a star less.
And yet, though I enjoyed the reading and the experience of traveling across the whole fo the Americas while sitting in my couch, it wasn’t so satisfying as many other Theroux books, namely because of his own mindset. In the “Last train to Zona Verde”, written I believe around a decade ago when he is now close to his seventies (unchecked fact, apologies), Paul is happy with his and others lives and he doesn’t complain, even when having to deal with extreme poverty in the Cape or in Angola, it’s all part of the game of life and being a child of the Universe. Having read it in 2013, when my personal and professional life was mirroring this trip, flying to and fro, between the Cape and Angola, its reading brought me a lot of satisfaction.
Maybe it’s my fault, for my love for Africa and because I still do not know enough about central and South America, but I am convinced this is written in a rather unhappy, constantly complaining state of mind, which makes it a different experience. For that, half a star less.
December 1, 2021
Beautiful book about a journey from Boston to Patagonia with laconic observations of the fellow passengers along portions of the journey.
November 30, 2015
This is probably my second re-read of Paul Theroux's travel classic of a railroad journey from Boston to as far south as he could go in the Americas. By now, many of the trains he describes no longer exist; so he has produced, at the very least, a valuable historical document. The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas is an unusually snarky look at Latin America and its people, but then his views are typical of the period in which the book was written some forty years ago.
Still, it is Theroux and Bruce Chatwin who led me to travel to South America. His observations are always interesting, even when they do not entirely convince me.
Still, it is Theroux and Bruce Chatwin who led me to travel to South America. His observations are always interesting, even when they do not entirely convince me.
October 22, 2016
There are parts in this book which I find brilliant, funny, entertaining, and even deep. A description of reading Lovecraft on a train full of people that probably thought the name referred to something naughty is quite good for example.
It's just a little too much of this book. I think I might have liked it more in shorter form because in the end it was starting to feel like challenge to finish. Maybe it was just too long a trip for the book. Or maybe I didn't feel like going all this way with Theroux. He is a good writer though.
It's just a little too much of this book. I think I might have liked it more in shorter form because in the end it was starting to feel like challenge to finish. Maybe it was just too long a trip for the book. Or maybe I didn't feel like going all this way with Theroux. He is a good writer though.
June 5, 2019
Well written, and an interesting approach to travel writing. Theroux himself is obnoxious and self-important, and it gets to be too much. Some conclusions he draws are good, others seem half-baked, making me think he takes nothing, and no one, as seriously as he takes himself.
September 14, 2020
No ano passado desafiei-me a ler “A Montanha Mágica”, de Thomas Mann e no fim notei que o livro de alguma forma me modificou na minha conceção do espaço e do tempo. Este ano, mesmo sem contar, o desafio foi ler este “O Velho Expresso da Patagónia”, de Paul Theroux. Neste caso, o livro encontrou-me e fez-me reorganizar algumas das minhas principais atitudes.
Paul sai de sua casa uma manhã e apanha um metro comum em Boston. A viagem só termina meses depois, no Sul da Argentina. A intenção é viajar de comboio e não ser um turista mas sim um viajante. É que diferença existe entre estes dois!
A descrição é a ferramenta de Theroux. No entanto, eu que geralmente sou um pouco avesso a este método, não me cansei. A descrição é sempre cortada por comentários, opiniões e reflexões que tornam a leitura dinâmica.
É um retrato da América do final dos anos 70, um choque de realidade. Muitas vezes Paul descreve várias sensações que já tive enquanto viajante: o desconforto com o desconhecido, a necessidade de uma explicação para determinado comportamento, os paralelismos com o que conhecemos, o cansaço, a irritação.
Mas também o lado mais enriquecedor. A ideia de que uma viagem se faz olhando a paisagem mas onde realmente acontece é dentro de nós. E, se bem sucedida, vai provocar em nós uma relativização que resulta do crescimento que a própria viagem proporciona.
Não é um livro que se leia assim em três noites. E mesmo depois de acabado ele permanece em nós, surgindo em determinados momentos da vida. Recordo com humor alguns dos seus “companheiros” e mantenho algo que sempre disse: é numa viagem que as pessoas realmente se conhecem.
Seria uma pessoa mais pobre se não tivesse lido este relato de viagem. E acho que isso é uma das melhores coisas que se pode dizer de um livro.
Paul sai de sua casa uma manhã e apanha um metro comum em Boston. A viagem só termina meses depois, no Sul da Argentina. A intenção é viajar de comboio e não ser um turista mas sim um viajante. É que diferença existe entre estes dois!
A descrição é a ferramenta de Theroux. No entanto, eu que geralmente sou um pouco avesso a este método, não me cansei. A descrição é sempre cortada por comentários, opiniões e reflexões que tornam a leitura dinâmica.
É um retrato da América do final dos anos 70, um choque de realidade. Muitas vezes Paul descreve várias sensações que já tive enquanto viajante: o desconforto com o desconhecido, a necessidade de uma explicação para determinado comportamento, os paralelismos com o que conhecemos, o cansaço, a irritação.
Mas também o lado mais enriquecedor. A ideia de que uma viagem se faz olhando a paisagem mas onde realmente acontece é dentro de nós. E, se bem sucedida, vai provocar em nós uma relativização que resulta do crescimento que a própria viagem proporciona.
Não é um livro que se leia assim em três noites. E mesmo depois de acabado ele permanece em nós, surgindo em determinados momentos da vida. Recordo com humor alguns dos seus “companheiros” e mantenho algo que sempre disse: é numa viagem que as pessoas realmente se conhecem.
Seria uma pessoa mais pobre se não tivesse lido este relato de viagem. E acho que isso é uma das melhores coisas que se pode dizer de um livro.
August 12, 2021
I thought travel writing wasn't my thing, but picked it up in the library after the author was recommended by Belgian writer Margot Vanderstraeten. It appeared that it was interesting after all to follow Theroux on this trip he made in 1978 from Boston to Patagonia, predominantly by train. I looked a bit into current train travel in Latin America and I reckon that this trip wouldn't be possible now, as most railway networks seemed to have been stopped, although some have been resurrected in recent years, at least in Argentina. Not that I have definite plans, really. Anyway Theroux is a different sort of traveller. He claims sightseeing is only of use if you're bored. He mainly wants to be on the road (rails) and have discussions. I do like sightseeing as well as (some) comic books, which are only fitting for children in his opinion. But it was enjoyable to follow his by times acerbic wit while stuck at home.
June 9, 2017
Stary ekspres patagoński to książka kupiona przeze mnie z dwóch powodów. Po pierwsze zachęcona zostałam do autora, a wybrałam akurat ten tytuł, bo świetnie pasował do wyzwania południowoamerykańskiego. Niestety moja przyjaźń z Theroux na tej książce raczej się skończy.
Lata siedemdziesiąte XX wieku, Theroux postanawia przemierzyć oba kontynenty amerykańskie pociągiem. Wyrusza więc na południe, zasiada przy oknie, zaczyna czytać i właściwie alienuje się od współpasażerów. Zza grzbietu książki spogląda oczywiście, obserwuje ale wydaje się nie być zainteresowany bliższym kontaktem. Nieliczne rozmowy służą mu do piętnowania bolączek Ameryk - bieda, analfabetyzm, przemoc. Trudno tu szukać pozytywnych spostrzeżeń.
Ciąg dalszy: http://przeczytalamksiazke.blogspot.p...
Lata siedemdziesiąte XX wieku, Theroux postanawia przemierzyć oba kontynenty amerykańskie pociągiem. Wyrusza więc na południe, zasiada przy oknie, zaczyna czytać i właściwie alienuje się od współpasażerów. Zza grzbietu książki spogląda oczywiście, obserwuje ale wydaje się nie być zainteresowany bliższym kontaktem. Nieliczne rozmowy służą mu do piętnowania bolączek Ameryk - bieda, analfabetyzm, przemoc. Trudno tu szukać pozytywnych spostrzeżeń.
Ciąg dalszy: http://przeczytalamksiazke.blogspot.p...
February 5, 2016
Lots of beautiful observations, and a great story, but Theroux is bit of a condescending dick, isn't he? I almost gave up at the beginning when he started mocking Wendy the raw food eater. "Uttering rosy generalities in her sweetly tremulous voice [...] she was an example of total self-absorption and desperate self-advertisement." Well if that ain't the pot calling the kettle black.
September 9, 2018
still one of the best travel and train journies. i admire is ability to sit and i did trains...!
August 27, 2014
Since my retirement I have been blessed to be able to read a considerable number of books and am currently at a pace to read several hundred a year. My favorite authors that I presently focus on include David McCollough, Cormac McCarthy, Larry McMurtry, John Sandford and the author of this book......Paul Theroux. I have read many of his non-fiction travel adventures and some of his fiction including "The Mosquito Coast" and found them all exceptional. This book, however, was as good as any. It has been rare when I find a non-fiction book that absolutely captures my imagination as this book did. Theroux is often criticized for his cynicism and the intensity of his opinions, but I found this book to be elegantly written with prose and observations that were vivid and thought provoking. His ability to share the nature and spirit of a country and to bring out those that he meets on his journey is truly remarkable. Theroux is a politically correct person and one of the greatest challenges to political correctness is to read those opinions thirty-five years later and have them be fresh. In summary, his gift with the English language, his ability to put his thoughts in writing make this book hard to put down. Paul Theroux starts this adventure by boarding a train in Boston and ends it by getting off a train in the Andes of Argentina.......hence the name. I have had the fortune of having been to the countries included in this odyssey and for diffferent reasons also did my best to avoid the tourist centers, however he made it seem like a new experience. Simply, for those who like to travel and have a curiosity about the world, an excellent adventure.
May 26, 2012
I'm a big Paul Theroux fan, and this book delivered. A number of reviewers describe his foibles - occasional self-absorption and cruel caricaturing of people he finds obnoxious - but some of the other criticisms are bizarre to me. He was hardly an overgrown version of the itinerant youth backpacker; he wrote travel books for a living and this was how he made money. He talks about his inner thoughts and emotions on the train a lot, but isn't that a big part of why we read travel books? Travel writing that is merely about describing the sensory experience might seem appealing, but it seems to always end up being a frightful bore.
Maybe he really is a curmudgeon and a jerk and I'm one, too, for empathizing with him...but I doubt it.
This Theroux book was special to me as I want to visit South America more than anywhere else. The description of a train through the jungle in Costa Rica was also especially vivid. Theroux's brand of traveling - seeing the day-to-day sights of a place by train and visiting historic sites that are off the tourist track - is spot-on. As an added bonus, you even get to experience his conversations with the great South American writer Jose Luis Borges.
Maybe he really is a curmudgeon and a jerk and I'm one, too, for empathizing with him...but I doubt it.
This Theroux book was special to me as I want to visit South America more than anywhere else. The description of a train through the jungle in Costa Rica was also especially vivid. Theroux's brand of traveling - seeing the day-to-day sights of a place by train and visiting historic sites that are off the tourist track - is spot-on. As an added bonus, you even get to experience his conversations with the great South American writer Jose Luis Borges.
May 21, 2016
"I had arrived in Patagonia, and i laughed when I remembered I had come here from Boston, on a subway train that people take to work."
Call me a fanatic of Theroux's work, but travel writing isn't always about "Sugar-coating" your experiences with Wows and Awes. Paul is undoubtedly the Best in his class and he is never afraid of calling a place what it actually is.
In The Old Patagonian Express, Theroux takes us on a Journey; and literally a journey with the starting point and destination just posing as ancilliary for this whole book. I will never get to see the South America Theroux described when he traveled, with poverty and only a mild tinge of modernisation, which in present times might make all the places quite mundane.
It is fairly justified that Theroux's work is not for everyone; especially those seeking Travelbrochures in books. Quite often, the author has his own beliefs about the places he has visited and many may find it crude and judgemental on the author's part but that is what travel writing is all about: calling a squalid hut a Palace does not do justice to the Author's intelligence and the reader's expectations. Honesty can be your best guide even during travels.
One of the great travel memoirs I have read in recent times.
Call me a fanatic of Theroux's work, but travel writing isn't always about "Sugar-coating" your experiences with Wows and Awes. Paul is undoubtedly the Best in his class and he is never afraid of calling a place what it actually is.
In The Old Patagonian Express, Theroux takes us on a Journey; and literally a journey with the starting point and destination just posing as ancilliary for this whole book. I will never get to see the South America Theroux described when he traveled, with poverty and only a mild tinge of modernisation, which in present times might make all the places quite mundane.
It is fairly justified that Theroux's work is not for everyone; especially those seeking Travelbrochures in books. Quite often, the author has his own beliefs about the places he has visited and many may find it crude and judgemental on the author's part but that is what travel writing is all about: calling a squalid hut a Palace does not do justice to the Author's intelligence and the reader's expectations. Honesty can be your best guide even during travels.
One of the great travel memoirs I have read in recent times.
November 5, 2021
1.5/5
Pretty owchie. Like taking a really long trip with a partner who complains all the time. Theroux's persona is simply mean-spirited. This right here is a small, small man.
He makes it clear that he isn't going to be like other travel books. Other travel books always play up how nice other countries are. He's out to write one that looks into the face of all the ugliness, Maaaaaan. so, with an edgy project like that, you can go two ways: he plays up all the meanness, boredom, and frustration with people and places, or accurately represents that he is a genuine curmudgeonly, unpleasant person. who knows.
Did he succeed? There's a lot of misery mixed in with picturesque landscapes, but most of it simply comes off as cheap since there is approximately 1.5 complaints per paragraph (approximately). So, sure. He did it. This isn't like other travel books (probably). But it lacks any curiosity or compassion that would make a potentially radical project like this one work. He mainly points out surface flaws and moves on.
The best sections are the short narrative interludes and historical explanations. But those are outnumbered.
one star and a half for Borges, the little essays, and some other choice descriptions. Otherwise, skip this one.
Pretty owchie. Like taking a really long trip with a partner who complains all the time. Theroux's persona is simply mean-spirited. This right here is a small, small man.
He makes it clear that he isn't going to be like other travel books. Other travel books always play up how nice other countries are. He's out to write one that looks into the face of all the ugliness, Maaaaaan. so, with an edgy project like that, you can go two ways: he plays up all the meanness, boredom, and frustration with people and places, or accurately represents that he is a genuine curmudgeonly, unpleasant person. who knows.
Did he succeed? There's a lot of misery mixed in with picturesque landscapes, but most of it simply comes off as cheap since there is approximately 1.5 complaints per paragraph (approximately). So, sure. He did it. This isn't like other travel books (probably). But it lacks any curiosity or compassion that would make a potentially radical project like this one work. He mainly points out surface flaws and moves on.
The best sections are the short narrative interludes and historical explanations. But those are outnumbered.
one star and a half for Borges, the little essays, and some other choice descriptions. Otherwise, skip this one.
May 16, 2014
Really enjoyed this travelogue. Theroux takes a train trip from Boston to Patagonia in Argentina, and tells us all about the trip getting there. Meeting many different types of characters, Theroux's interactions with them range from slight bemusement to indifference. He is not, however, as a few reviewers have tried to point out, a misanthrope. He does not suffer fools, but Theroux shows great humanity when describing the poverty and the hopelessness that he sees throughout his travels. Most touching are the boys he sees living in the doorway of a building in a small town in Peru.
One chapter deals with Theroux's interaction with famed Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges, with whom Theroux enjoys Kipling, language, and food.
I'd have to say this is one of the best travel adventures I've read from the last half century.
One chapter deals with Theroux's interaction with famed Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges, with whom Theroux enjoys Kipling, language, and food.
I'd have to say this is one of the best travel adventures I've read from the last half century.
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